


I Would Never

by brahe



Series: Sabrielation - Jan 2014 [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmare, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-29
Updated: 2014-01-29
Packaged: 2018-01-10 12:15:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1159631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brahe/pseuds/brahe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam has a nightmare and scares Gabriel.</p><p>Formerly "Nightmare"</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Would Never

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really terrible at titles sorry... anyway, work for Sabrielation prompt for day three, violent!Gabriel.
> 
> Update: Finally thought of a better title. Fic is the same

_Cold. Everything is cold. And it’s getting colder. He doesn’t understand how it could be so, so cold. He looks around for anything, a door, a window, a light, a fire, a wall, but everything is black. A blue light is growing from the corner of whatever he’s looking at, steadily getting brighter. Suddenly there’s a flash of brilliant blue and he jumps back with a yelp in surprise. Except now he’s in a different place. It’s still dark, but not black. He can just barely make out the end of a dock or the ground that comes up to the edge of water. He tries to look at the sky to try to get some kind of bearing, but to no avail. He doesn’t recognize this sky. He feels a presence behind him and whirls around to see a floating red light, bobbing and slowly coming closer. It radiates heat, and he steps backwards as it gets closer. Only, he forgot about the end of solid ground, and just before like light can get within arm’s reach, he steps on air. It feels like a cartoon, suspended in the air like that while he looks down at the gentle waves of the water he’s about to fall into. Suddenly time catches up with him and he plunges into the unexpectedly cold water. This is fine, should be fine, he’s a great swimmer. He tries to move his arms and legs, only to find they’ve become like lead, dead weights dragging him down. He looks up and can see the perfectly indigo starry sky above him, rippling with the soft waves. He tries again to move, but it still doesn’t work. He’s falling down, down, down, into the blackness of the water. He tries not to think about the monsters that lurk on the bottom, forever just out of sight, but never out of reach. After what feels like hours, his lungs begin to burn, a fire that started from the lack of oxygen. He used to be afraid of drowning, until he learned of the much scarier ways to die. But the childhood fear comes back in full force and hits him like a train, quickly sending his mind into overdrive. He begins to flail, trying desperately to swim up. When the outcome is clear, he resigns the fight by closing his eyes. It’s much easier to be swallowed by something you can’t see. His limbs have gone numb and now it’s just him, floating, sinking, falling, and the pain, the burn, creeping through his body until darkness. Except, it’s not over yet. Instead of falling into the blackness like he should have, he falls onto cold, hard, concrete._

_The floor is cold against him, but the room is warm, bordering on hot. He sits up slowly, looking around. Then he hears voices. He gets to his feet and makes his way along the dimly lit passage and finds a door. He pushes it open, it’s heavy, surprisingly so, and is momentarily blinded by fluorescent light. When his sight clears, he finds himself in a motel room. He’s not sure if he’s been here before, but he knows the layout. He wants from the door past the kitchen and into the bedroom. There’s a gold tint to the room, and the moment he walks into the room a golden light manifests above one of the beds. There’s a familiar feeling to it, something that feels like home. He walks closer to it, reveling in the comfort that seems to be radiating from the orb. Just as he’s about to touch it, it turns yellow. Not the springtime yellow, but the fiery yellow that goes with red and orange and anger. The golden room washes in red and suddenly the floor disappears from under him and he’s falling again, falling so fast he can hear the wind rushing past his ears. He jolts when he finds himself chained to a chair. He’s back in the room with the cement floors and he peers into the dark corners of the room, looking for something, anything, and trying to calm the panic quickly rising in him. A figure detaches itself from the darkness and he tenses as it walks towards him. Gabriel appears before him, an unreadable expression on his face. He shakes he head once as he says, “Oh, Sammy, what have you done?”_

_“Gabe, you have to help me,” he says, finding he has a voice. “I don’t know what going on, but…” His eyes dart around, searching the darkness for an enemy, for danger._

_“There’s no one else here, Sam,” Gabriel says, and he should be comforted by that, only he’s not. The words send a shiver down his spine and chill him to the bone. He cautiously looks at Gabriel. “There’s no one else here for_ miles _.” There’s a pause. “I think it’s time we had some fun, don’t you?” he purrs, walking around behind the chair. “You’re so easy to read, Sammy. All your fears, laid out on a silver platter.”_

_Before he even has time to respond, he’s engulfed in flames. While he’s burning, it feels like he’s also drowning and it feels like he’s being ripped apart, piece by piece, until nothing should be left. It keeps going, never stopping, and the only things he can see are Gabriel’s and Lucifer’s faces between the flames and the spots in his eyesight that he shouldn’t have anymore. He hears the all-too-familiar sound of Lucifer’s laugh, except this time the once-comforting sound of Gabriel’s laugh is mixed in and he feels ready to pass out. It’s too much, too much pain and his throat’s dry from screaming and he just wants to submit to the darkness creeping along the corners of his vision. It’d be easy and painless and the darkness is growing and now all he can see is Gabriel torturing him through the growing and shrinking black spots. He would beg if he could, only he has no voice left and he just wants to die already, just let go and fall and not end up somewhere else this time. “It will never end,” he hears Gabriel laugh and he screams with a dry throat and there’s no sound left and there’s nothing but burning and drowning and ripping apart until-_

**_“SAMMY!”_ **

He opens his eyes to a popcorn ceiling with a brownish stain spot. He slowly notices how sweaty he is, how the sheets are either stuck to him or kicked out of his sight. There are also hands on his shoulders, shaking him awake. His head lolls to the side and half-conscious eyes meet wide, panicked ones. The sight wakes him up completely and his eyes snap the rest of the way open. He grabs the sheet he can get his hands on and pulls it with him as he scrambles back into the corner of the bed and surveys the room. Seeing no other danger than Gabriel, he sets his stare on the archangel. The gold eyes are still watching him, concern and worry swirling with what looks like fright. 

"Sam," he says softly, "what happened?"

For several minutes Sam doesn't speak. He's not sure if he could. Eventually he's calmed down enough and his brain has registered completely that this Gabriel isn't going to torture him.

"Nightmare," he whispers, his voice hoarse. 

"I gathered that much," Gabriel practically snorts. "You started screaming so loud I had to put a ward around the room. I'm surprised you didn't wake up the whole town before I did that." He pauses and studies Sam. "Wanna talk about it?" 

Sam shakes his head no. He's pretty sure he doesn't have the effort to do it. Instead, he reaches out like a child, grabbing at Gabriel. Confused, he climbs onto the bed and carefully sits next to Sam. The hunter gently lays his hand on the archangel's and suddenly Sam's mind is open. The nightmare play out in front of Gabriel like it's his own, and by the end of it, he's scared of Sam's imagination and of himself.

"I would never," Gabriel says once he's recovered enough. Sam just nods, staring blankly at the white sheets. Gabriel gently places a hand on the side of his face and the other one rests on the handprint on his hunter's hip. "Ever."

Sam studies him before decided that's good enough and he kisses him for all he's worth, shoving the horrid dream out of his mind for now. That vicious side of Gabriel, the Archangel of the Lord and pagan god power, is reserved for demons and the like, not for Sam.


End file.
